Nothing Else
by Kegel
Summary: It was not even really a mistake nor was all of this really his fault, but still he could somehow be blamed. Character Death. SaraGreg
1. Abruptly

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own it.

**Summary:** It was not even really a mistake nor was all of this really his fault, but still he could somehow be blamed. Character Death. SaraGreg

**Rating: **T

**A/N: **Yes, another story. Blame the _Ruler of all Greg and Evil_ aka _Emmithar _who was also so nice to betaread this. :D

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**Nothing Else**

Chapter 1: Abruptly

What pulled him out of the comfort of the light slumber he was still in was the admittedly unnerving ring-tone of his cell-phone. Luckily he had not put it far away from his bed. Tiredly Greg reached out for it, feeling Sara moving next to him as well.

"Sanders," he picked up, his voice sounding raspy from sleeping. He listened to his boss on the other side of the line, throwing a glance at the digital clock on the night stand, noticing that it was still more than three hours until his shift would actually start. He had gone to sleep only two hours ago. He tried to concentrate on what Grissom was saying and half a minute later he put down the phone, sighing, turning around to his girlfriend. Sara was awake, looking at him questioningly.

"Grissom wants us to come in early. They have a large scene in Henderson. He'll meet us there."

Their intention to catch up on sleeping had obviously failed. Sara got up quickly, Greg following a little reluctantly, not really enjoying the prospect of getting in early, especially to such a large scene as it had sounded in Grissom's description. It would probably mean that the next day would be well-advanced before they would be finished. His plans on taking Sara out had been interfered for two subsequent weeks now, due to an early call-in, a double shift or other mostly work-related issues always getting in their way.

When Greg had finally managed to get out of bed and dressed in some random shirt that had been lying around, too tired to really care, he made his way into the kitchen, hearing Sara already rummaging around there. She had started brewing coffee and Greg was more than thankful for it.

Ten minutes later they had both crammed down some bits of food and some hot coffee, hurrying to get out of the house. Greg was only too ready to let Sara drive them to the scene, even though they were using his car. He was tired and exhausted from the last day that had once again included a double shift. Sara seemed to cope with it way better. Of course she had more years of experience than he did with being called in early when you were actually supposed to sleep. Working in DNA had meant at least comparatively steady hours, at least starting hours, even though he had often needed to stay longer when results were needed urgently in hot cases or when they were especially swamped and he needed to catch up.

His thoughts had drifted away in this manner while they were driving and Sara had remained almost silent, the only sound being the quiet sound of some news station coming out of the radio. At first she only threw some glances at him, frowning.

"You're okay?" Sara finally asked him. Greg lifted his head from where he had laid it on his arm that leaned on the door of the car, looking at her.

"Yeah." He was okay. Tired, but fine apart from that. He only had to manage to not fall asleep right now.

"You are so quiet," Sara argued. That was how she would always notice when something was wrong with him and Greg chuckled briefly because of it, causing Sara to smile as well.

"I'm just tired," he told her truthfully.

Sara nodded silently, obviously satisfied with this answer.

When they finally arrived at the scene and were getting out of the car, Greg saw Grissom standing not far away from their parking spot, waiting for them. The cool night air helped Greg in getting awake and he hoped that he would not be stuck somewhere in sticky air inside.

Grissom led them towards an old warehouse that was surrounded by several other derelict buildings. They entered, followed by a police officer, greeting several others who were already waiting inside. The scene itself was unclear, several smaller rooms lying on each site of a larger storeroom, and full of debris. The power did not work so their only sources of light were their flashlights.

"We have four dbs altogether," one police officer told them. "Two behind there," he added, pointing at the room at very end of the building. "One in the next room, and another one in the storeroom."

Grissom turned around to Greg and Sara. "Sara, you take the db over there," he pointed with his flashlight into the general direction of the storeroom. Greg did not see the body though that was supposed to be there, as it was way too dark and the flashlight illuminated only a small part of the room.

"Greg, you come with me," Grissom said then and Greg nodded and followed his boss, the police-officer who had just reported about the bodies walking in the front, while Sara stayed behind, turning to work the db in the storeroom. Greg looked quickly over his shoulder back at her but she had already turned away so that he did not catch her gaze again. Later, he told himself.

Greg took in his surroundings, letting his flashlight wander, following Grissom's steadily held light in front of him. He assumed that they would need hours and hours to process the whole scene. Evidence could be found everywhere, but the scattered debris would especially aggravate their task. Greg wondered ironically why people could not be killed in more neatly arranged surroundings.

They entered a small room and Greg was soon able to see the body of a man in the glow of his flashlight. It was half covered with a blanket that concealed the face of the man.

"Greg, you take this room," Grissom ordered. "Don't overlook anything," he added and walked towards the neighboring room where the last two bodies were supposed to be. Greg frowned but turned to work then. He heard how his boss and the police-officer left the room, and crouched down to get a better look on the body. He would have to remove the blanket to be really able to see the area around the body.

He took some pictures first so that the scene could be reconstructed later. Then he started to carefully pull on the blanket with gloved hands, realizing quickly though that it was caught on the other side under a heavy board. He tried to shove that aside but found out immediately that this had been a bad idea, when the wall next to him started to crunch and more debris that had been stabilized by the board before fell down. Greg cursed at first quietly when it landed on the body, but swore then louder when some of it hit him as well.

"Can somebody help me here please?" he called, hoping for someone to come up and help him stabilize the scene again. He was neither keen on getting anything of all of this on his head, nor on getting into trouble because the body had been harmed, or rather damaged. The dead one could not really be harmed anymore. One moment later the officer that had accompanied them earlier into this room walked in and approached to help Greg who looked thankfully at him.

Greg never really knew what happened. From one moment to the other shots were ripping through the previously quiet night in that the only sounds had been the quiet talks between the officers at the scene. The shots were instantly followed by shouts, more shots throughout the whole warehouse and eerily crunching and breaking of stone and wood. Flashlights that had been shining died suddenly, while others were switched on quickly. Chaos occupied the scene and when it had been conquered some minutes later, the officer in charge had the hardest task, when he had to make a call to the crime lab to report that they had two injured and one dead CSI.

**TBC**


	2. Firmly

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own it.

**A/N: **Thanks to _Emmithar _for betareading.

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**Chapter 2: Firmly**

Sara crouched down and examined the body in front of her, letting the flashlight slowly wander over it. Greg and Grissom had left only some minutes ago to process the bodies in the back rooms of the building and she was here on her own, with two police officers nearby though, to examine this part of the warehouse. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction where Greg and Grissom had gone, not able to see anything in the darkness.

Greg had been so quiet tonight, and that had worried her a little. Knowing him for many years and living with for more than one had taught her that usually something was wrong when he did not talk. He had reassured her that he was only tired and maybe that was even true. The last couple of weeks had drained them both, although it seemed to take a greater toll on Greg. Sara hoped that they would find some more time off work in the next few days that they could spend together. And she did not define the both of them wading through cold water to recover a floater as quality time, which was something they had done only the previous night.

She wished they had another source of light than their flashlights to work with in the warehouse as the lack of it made the working in an area as large as this especially difficult. But until someone had arranged another lighting, she would have to deal with it as it was and one of the officers had told her that they were working on it.

After she had finished her primary examination over the body, she stood up again, walking around the near area.

It was then that she heard the sudden eruption of shots in the backside of the building, followed by shouts all around her. Startled she stood nailed to the spot for a second, wondering what had happened, when she felt a sudden, fierce pain in her left upper arm, even before she realized that she was shot at. She slumped on the floor, hearing more gunfire around her. Her only thought was to stay down and wait and pray that it would be over soon. She could have misheard it, but in addition to the shots, the sounds of breaking wood and stone seemed to come out of the back of the building. Movement had started around her and she saw the glowing of flashlights hastening past her on either side.

Then it was suddenly over, the gunfire had stopped, but it did not become quiet again as now urgent calling started around her.

Sara slowly lifted herself up, remembering only now that she had been hit, feeling the pain return that she had not noticed for the moments of utter fear. She brought up her flashlight to get a look at the wound. It had been a stripe shot and although blood was trickling from the wound it did not seem to be too serious.

She was trembling slightly, looking around nervously into the confusion around her. Then she was dazzled by a flashlight that was coming directly up to her, before the officer lowered it, asking after her state. When he saw the bleeding wound on her arm, he quickly ensured her that paramedics had already been called and would be at the scene soon, but she only shook her head, asserting him that it wasn't so bad, wanting then to know instead what had happened. She was starting to worry for Greg and Grissom now. She did not really know how much had gone on in the backside of the house where the shooting had started. She did not want to expect the worst. There was no reason for her to expect that. She had gotten off lightly and Grissom and Greg would have, too. There was no indication, no reason for her to believe that it was different. The officer could not really tell her anything but only suggested that she went outside to wait for the paramedics there, assuring her that they had now everything under control.

Sara protested that she wanted to wait for her co-workers before she went outside, but the officer did not admit that, but led her outside instead. She walked with him more or less willingly, looking back over her shoulder to see if she was able to get a glimpse on the back of the building or maybe see Grissom and Greg coming out as well.

She waited outside for some minutes, surrounded by several officers, some of them being hurt as well, although none of the injuries seemed to be too bad. Then she saw the officer who had been in charge of the scene coming out of the building. He threw a brief glance at her and Sara hoped that she had only imagined the look of sorrow. He talked quietly with two near standing men before he brought out his phone and called somebody. Sara was not able to understand anything of what he was saying and wished she had Grissom's ability to read lips.

That was the time when not only one, but several ambulances pulled up in front of the building and it frightened Sara. If they had called for more than one, how bad was the situation actually? She wanted to make her way over to the officer in charge, determined that she would get answers out of him, here and now, but two paramedics were already coming up to her and started talking to her and attending her wound before she had the opportunity to get away. She winced from time to time, while they were treating her injury, hoping, praying that Greg and Grissom would finally come out, as their long absence gave her a real scare.

Several paramedics had gone inside the building. Soon one of them was coming back outside, and talked to the officer in charge. Sara watched all of this fearfully, unbelieving that it was happening. Greg and Grissom had to be okay, they simply had to be. She thought she heard a policeman nearby telling how two assailants had been shot inside. About the condition of the two CSI who were still in the building, he did not know anything though.

After the paramedics had finished their first aid on her, Sara made her way determinedly over to the man who should know more than her.

"Where are my colleagues?" she asked directly and had to see the look of sorrow again.

"I'm sorry," the officer told her and now nothing could hold Sara anymore. She wanted to enter the building but a paramedic who came out of it tried to stop her.

"You better not go inside," she said, but Sara shook her head.

"This is a crime scene, I'm a CSI and you will let me go in there. Now."

"Sara, that's not good idea," a voice called her now from behind and a hand on her shoulder held her back. Sara turned around angrily only to face Catherine. In the first second she only wondered why her co-worker had suddenly come to the scene; in the next she noticed the sorrow in the woman's expression. She was pale and seemed to have cried, although she was not doing so now.

Catherine led Sara away from the warehouse, while they could see how the paramedics were packing out several body bags. Catherine seemed to struggle for words, seemed to search for a start how she could tell Sara.

"No," Sara said suddenly, quietly. "No, I have to go in there. Greg needs my help." She turned around again, and struggled to get away from Catherine who had been holding her arm. The blonde woman let her go resignedly and Sara marched back towards the building, despite protests from several sides.

She was afraid of what she would see inside, but she could not stop, the only aim in her mind being to find Greg.

Greg. They had woken up next to each other only a little more than an hour ago. It could not have been the last time. She had to remind herself to take deep breaths, to not panic, when the fear was rising up in her.

Sara would remember it later only as a blur how suddenly two paramedics emerged from the building, carrying a stretcher on that Greg was lying motionlessly. Sara stopped dead when she saw them, but bolted forward then, assailing the paramedics with desperate questions.

The only thing she did after they had answered her condolatory, was to cry while she took and held Greg's hand firmly, unwilling to let go.

**TBC**


	3. Finally

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own it.

**A/N: **Thanks to _Emmithar _for betareading. By the way, I like feedback. :D

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**Chapter 3: Finally**

The paramedics had finally made Sara let go of Greg's hand. Sara was standing near the ambulance now, rubbing her eyes, trying to stop the tears from streaming. She had to get herself together now, had to be strong for her friends. Crying could come later, later when everything was over. Although over never really would come, in view of that they had lost a friend today. Sara rubbed away the tears one final time, marching towards the ambulance then.

"I want to come with him," she told the two paramedics who were just climbing into the vehicle. Sara noticed that she sounded way more determinedly and firmly than she was actually feeling.

The woman who had held Sara from entering the warehouse earlier hesitated briefly, before she nodded at her. Without lagging Sara climbed into the ambulance as well. Before they were driving off she glanced back briefly, seeing Catherine outside talking with a police-officer. Catherine had taken over charge of the scene. She had a lost a friend as well, and was clearly affected by it, but she seemed able to put it aside for the time being to take care of what needed to be done. Sara felt guilty that she herself was not able to do that. She was not as professional, as strong as Catherine right now. The other woman was not an emotional mess like her.

The ambulance drove off and Sara felt bad about leaving Grissom behind. Although there was nothing she could do for him anymore. Grissom was dead and Greg was alive and needed her now. She had been so relieved to hear that Greg was living, only to feel her heart being ripped out when the paramedic had told her in the next sentence his condolence because Grissom was dead and there was nothing they had been able to do for him anymore. Her grief made it almost impossible for her to feel the relief about Greg.

Sara moved a little nearer to him as much as it was possible, taking his hand again, waiting for the paramedics to protest, but no objection came. And Sara was not willing to let go again. They had lost Grissom; they could not lose Greg as well.

She took his hand in both of hers, glad that it felt warmly. She did not really know about his condition. The paramedics had told her about it after they had brought him out of the building but Sara remembered it only as a blur of relief, grief and crying. She did not see any external wounds on Greg though, unless they were hidden from her sight by the torn clothes that were covering his body. It eased her sorrow as it meant that he had not been shot. She did not know what else had happened to him but what she was able too see of his body looked scratched and bruised and he was still unconscious which was worrying Sara the most.

Some minutes later, when they had almost arrived at the hospital, Greg's eyelids began to flutter and Sara held her breath. The next moment Greg was squeezing her hand lightly and opening his eyes slowly, looking directly at Sara who was sitting next to him. The activity of the paramedics increased again and after a few moments the female one glanced at Sara, smiling reassuringly.

"He's going to be alright," she told her quickly. Sara held Greg's hand even more firmly, trying to smile at him.

"You're going to be fine, Greg."

A new wave of tears was coming up for her now, mainly out of relief, although some of them were also shed for Grissom who nobody had been able to help anymore.

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Sara was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, squeezing the empty paper cup in her hand absentmindedly. With tiredness and emotional exhaustion setting in, she was wondering more and more if not everything was a terrible nightmare, almost waiting for the moment in that she would wake up in Greg's arms, something which she had come to love. 

The pain in her upper-arm was far too real though for a nightmare. After Greg had been wheeled off, her wound had been attended to again, but the pain was not gone. Sara thought that she could maybe bring herself later on to ask for more pain-medication, but right she did not even feel up to do that.

She would have to live with the reality that Grissom was gone. She could not imagine it though. She could not imagine that he would not be at the lab twenty-four hours anymore, or that was what he had appeared to be. He would not hold together their team anymore, defend it against exterior trouble. Would not solve brilliant-mindedly another hopeless, seemingly stuck case, would not do any experiments with larvae or bugs anymore.

He was the person in this city whom she had known longest and although he had in parts been responsible for lots of her depression and instability some years ago, he had also been a source of stability for their whole team, somebody who was always there and who would always be there, as it had appeared to be.

Sara hardly noticed through her sorrow that a doctor had come up to her. He waited for a moment before she reacted and looked up to him.

"You're here for Greg Sanders?" he asked and Sara nodded weakly.

"You want to see him, I presume?"

"Of course," Sara replied, her voice sounding hoarsely. The man motioned her to follow him. It was only a short walk to Greg's room and Sara was glad to see that her boyfriend was already sitting, leaning against his pillow in the hospital bed when they entered the room.

Sara approached the bed, smiling faintly.

"Hey," she said, taking his hand in hers again. That was slowly getting a habit.

The doctor departed, telling them to call for somebody if they needed anything, and Greg and Sara were alone.

"I'm so glad that you're alright, Sara," Greg started, then noticing the bandage on her arm though and frowning worriedly.

"That's nothing, Greg. No need to worry," she assured him, taking him into a hug, something she had been waiting to do during the previous fearful hours. She had a hard time keeping the tears from coming up again. Greg noticed that and stroked her hair gently.

"Hey, we're going to be alright," he told her. She sniffed, and got out of the hug again, holding still on Greg's shoulders though.

He looked at her, fear in his expression. Sara could not speak, she was not able to tell him, but when Greg asked weakly, "Grissom?" and Sara looked at him tearfully, finally breaking into sobs again, Greg had learned everything he needed to know. He took Sara in his arms again, rubbing her back, trying to calm her down, quite opposed to his own feelings.

When Sara had calmed down so much that she was able to observe Greg again, she noticed that he had paled visible, and had tensed up. He looked upset and troubled despite his efforts to soothe her. Finally he let go of her and Sara let her arms sink as well. Greg leaned back against the pillow behind him again, without saying a word.

"Greg?" she called anxiously but he did not answer her, his mind apparently somewhere else.

Sara wiped away the rest of her tears, knowing that she had to take care of Greg now. He needed her now and she would have to get a grip on herself again. She could not break into tears every few minutes. She had to be strong as she always used to be, or at least almost always, she needed to be strong for Greg, who seemed to take Grissom's death very hard, considering that he did not even say a word, something that was so untypical for Greg that it frightened Sara. She had always noticed when something was wrong with him when he was not especially talkative like he had just been earlier that night when he had explained it with tiredness. But his prolonged silence scared her while she was watching him, although it was in a way understandable, considering that he had learned of Grissom's death only some minutes ago.

"Greg?" she called again, squeezing his hand once more. "Answer me, please."

Finally Greg turned his look at her again but it took some more moments before he started to speak quietly.

"It's my fault," he said and Sara was taken aback for a moment, before she quickly shook her head.

"No, Greg, it's not your fault. Of course not," she tried to assure him.

"No, it is my fault," Greg repeated, before pulling his hand out of Sara's and finally starting to cry as well.

**TBC**


	4. Silently

**Disclaimer: Still don't own it.**

**A/N: Sorry that it took me so long to update this. I can't guarantee a quick next update either, as I'll probably work on my other stories next. Anyway, thanks for still reading.**

**And thanks to _Emmithar _for betareading.**

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**Chapter 4: Silently**

Sara watched Greg crying, overwhelmed with the situation, unsure what to do. She thought that Greg was probably in no condition to listen to any reasoning, nevertheless she tried soothing him, realizing quickly that he did not even really listen to what she was saying.

It was of course not Greg's fault that Grissom was dead, and Sara had no idea how Greg had actually gotten the idea that he was to blame, but she did not know how she could convince him that it was not true what he had said, now that he was going to pieces in front of her. She did the only thing she could do now and took him into her arms, relieved that he did not draw back again, as she had been afraid he would do so. Instead of that, he was clinging on her now, as if afraid to lose her as well. Sara whispered to him softly, trying to calm him down.

He seemed to be exhausted after a short while and apparently was tired, making Sara wonder how much pain medication he had actually received. She drew back slowly, while Greg sank weakly back into his cushions.

"Get some rest," Sara told him softly. "We'll talk later," she added, hoping that Greg would have calmed down later on.

Greg nodded half-heartedly and Sara watched him for another moment before she left the room quickly. She marched down the corridor of the hospital without paying attention to anything around her. She almost ran into a woman that had just entered the hallway, and muttered a quick sorry, when the woman suddenly grabbed Sara's arm, calling her name, effectively stopping her. Sara turned and looked now up for the first time and met Catherine's insistent, but gentle gaze.

"Sara, how are you?"

Sara looked around as if searching for somebody, avoiding looking at Catherine.

"I'm fine," she said incidentally, then finally catching Catherine's gaze.

"How's your arm?" the blonde woman insisted to know.

Sara shrugged. "Fine," she replied shortly, touching her arm, but flinching then. "Need some more pain meds maybe," she admitted.

Catherine nodded. "And how is Greg?" she wanted to know.

Sara hesitated. "He'll get better," she replied finally. "But…"

Catherine looked at her questioningly. "What? Is anything wrong with him?"

"He thinks it's his fault that…," Sara started, rubbing her eyes, tears once again coming up. She hated it that she was once again losing it, now in front of Catherine.

She excused herself quickly and marched off to the restroom at the other side of the hallway. Catherine looked after her worriedly, but decided to leave her alone and made her way to Greg's room.

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It would have probably been the best, if she had gone home. There she could have cried freely, finally letting out the tension that had built up inside of her. But there were other things she had to attend to, before she could even think of going home. 

There was Greg. She had to go to him again, she had to make sure that he did not blame himself, that he calmed down, that he would be able to relax and recover.

Then there was the lab. She needed to head over there as well. She could only guess in what state the lab was right now, the graveyard shift just having lost their head. There were things to be taken care of. And Sara felt that this was what she needed right now. She needed to take care of things at work, she needed to get her thoughts - and feelings - away from the loss.

Sara rubbed her eyes again, convinced that they looked red by now. She opened the door of the stall, hoping that nobody else was in the restroom anymore. A look into the mirror above the sinks confirmed her suspicion that she looked bad. Nevertheless, there wasn't anybody in the lab now who could stop her from going to work, no matter if she looked as if she would collapse any moment. Turning on the cold water, Sara tried to freshen up and clean away the traces of her crying. Satisfied with the result, she frowned at her own reflection and left the restroom.

She looked around in the hallway, searching for any known face. She did not see anybody and made her way back into the direction of Greg's room, when she saw Catherine walking out of it.

"How is he?" Sara asked.

"He didn't really talk with me." Sara could see it in Catherine's expression how little she liked that fact. She looked at Sara insistently. The brunette only stared back at her, without answering anything. She wanted to see Greg; she could not deal with Catherine right now, at the same time afraid that she would start to cry again. She could not afford that.

"Don't upset him," the blonde woman finally told her. Sara frowned.

"What do you think of me?"

Catherine looked as if she wanted to say something else, but turned to go then, giving Sara a short pat on the shoulder, before she walked off.

Sara waited a moment, before she pressed down the handle on the door to Greg's room. Entering, she saw Greg just turning away, closing his eyes. Sara approached him slowly, but he did not turn towards her again. He kept his eyes shut, pretending to sleep, but Sara easily noticed by his fastened breaths that he was awake. She sat down on the chair next to the bed, taking in Greg's form again. Scratches and bruises still covered him, but there was nothing that would not heal in time.

"Greg," she called him, since she knew he was awake. Greg did not react. Sara called him again softly, but received no answer from Greg. It was clear that he did not want to talk with her. After she had waited for some more minutes, Sara got up and walked to the door. She looked back briefly to see if her leaving caused any reaction from Greg, but this was not the case, so she left the room, closing the door behind her silently.

Sara did not know why Greg would not want to talk with her. Nothing of what had happened was his fault. Thinking about this presumption, she had to admit to herself though that she did not know what had happened in the back of the warehouse, there where the shooting had started, there where Grissom had been killed. Nevertheless, it was not Greg's fault, no matter if he had maybe made a mistake that had cost Grissom his life. Sara did not think that this was what had happened. She hoped that this was not the case, knowing that it would probably haunt Greg forever otherwise.

Sara was determined to find out what had happened, determined to convince Greg that he was not to blame, that only the assailants who had shot at them were to blame. There was no reason for Greg to not talk with her. It was not his fault that Grissom had died; she would never blame him, he had to know that. She would never do that, would she? Sara shook her head, walking down the corridor of the hospital towards the exit.

**TBC**


	5. Emotionally

_A/N: Updates on this story are unfortunately coming slowly, but it's not like interest seems to be too high for this one. :P No, I haven't learned the fine ways of bribing yet. lol Well, I hope this story is still somewhat enjoyable. _

_Thanks to Emmithar for betaing!_

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**Chapter 5 - Emotionally**

Sara arrived at the lab with some apprehension. It was not only because of what she might find out that had happened at the scene, which caused Greg to think it his fault, but also because of the reaction of her other co-workers, how they would treat her now.

She wanted to learn what exactly had happened, but at the same time she did not want to think about their loss. And her co-workers would remind her of it with the whole of their behavior towards her. She would have preferred it for now, if they just treated her as usual. She wanted to shut out her grief for the time being; it would only hinder her in her inquiry, would only hinder her being rational exactly then when she needed to be that.

Sara entered the building and felt the glances on her. The looks from the people from dayshift that had just begun, and the glances from some techs from her own shift who were on their way home. Word had traveled fast, obviously, and unsurprisingly. The message of the death of one of their own – be it from police department or from the crime lab – always got around quickly. And that Sara had been involved as well had apparently gone around with that message as well. She avoided the glances, ignored them as far as she could.

It came now to Sara's mind that she did not even know where to go first. She could not head to Grissom's office anymore; she could, but nobody would be there anymore. She wondered who of the graveyard shift would still be at the lab at this time of the day at all, especially after what had happened. And Sara wondered where she should start. Where to start asking questions. Probably they would have questions for her first. It would be the normal procedure. She could be happy, if they told her anything, especially before she had given her own statement, but even after that. And she wondered who "they" were. Who would take over the investigation of the happenings on the scene, of the shooting, of Grissom's death?

Sara was interrupted in her thoughts when Nick suddenly came out of the room she had just been walking by. He called her name and she turned to him, her face almost expressionless. Her first reaction on seeing Nick would have been a short smile, even if it was a forced one, but she could not smile at him now, feeling it was inappropriate. But neither did she want him to think that she was close to falling apart. So she settled for nearly no expression, just like she wanted to feel nothing right now.

Nick interpreted her look as a sign how hurt and upset she actually was. He was giving her a hug before she really realized what he was doing. Sara winced from the touch on her injured arm and freed herself from Nick's hug awkwardly.

"Sorry," he said quickly.

"Never mind. That's nothing." She pointed at her arm shrugging. Nick did not seem to be too convinced; her flinching when he had touched her had been evidence enough that it was not nothing.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she ensured him quickly. Nick had not expected a different answer from her.

"Greg's at the hospital?" he asked then and Sara nodded. "How is he?"

"He'll be alright," Sara replied, but her friend had noticed her brief hesitation.

"Really?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Sara said firmly, but added after a moment, "He's in shock." Greg clearly was. That had to be the explanation for everything.

"We all are," Nick replied softly. Sara was silent and after a moment she said goodbye to him quickly, brushing past him.

Realizing that she still did not know where to go she turned around to him again and asked, ignoring his slightly puzzled expression, "Is Catherine here?" Sara figured she was, unless she was out for work. Sara doubted that Catherine would just go home in a situation like this one. As a matter of fact, she was probably their supervisor, now that Grissom was dead. Ecklie would have to confirm it, but Sara did not doubt that he would.

"She's in Grissom's office," Nick answered quietly, and Sara frowned, wondering bitterly if Catherine had already taken over there. "She's doing some paperwork that has to be done," Nick added quickly, seeing Sara's change of expression.

"Of course," she replied simply. She was about to turn around again and walk off, when Nick spoke again.

"If you need anything…"

Sara nodded, finally smiling now. "I'll call you, if I need anything," she promised. Nick nodded as well and Sara marched off into the direction of Grissom's office. The door to it was open and Sara could see Catherine sitting at the desk, writing. It was not the first time that she saw her this way. Before Catherine had become supervisor and had gotten her own office, she had on two or three occasions taken over Grissom's paperwork, when he had been out of town, for a case or a conference of course, since Grissom never took vacation. Then Catherine had been sitting on the desk just like now.

Sara remained standing in the door frame before the other woman looked up.

"Sara, you haven't been at home, have you?"

Sara only looked at her silently and Catherine sighed. "Of course not."

"I need to know what happened." Sara sounded determined.

It was of course clear that she meant the shooting, but Catherine could have asked her what she meant exactly, since Sara had been there at the scene after all, but she knew that Sara wanted to know the particulars about Grissom's death. She doubted however that it was the right time for Sara to talk about that, and it was not like that Catherine herself had a clear picture of what had happened so far.

"You'd better go home and get some rest," she told her therefore.

Sara's eyes narrowed angrily. "Already playing the boss, are we?"

She did not really know what had driven her to say this, but Catherine sitting at Grissom's desk, doing Grissom's work, after he was not even dead for twelve hours, and then even trying to tell her what she had to do, while she wanted, needed, to find out what had happened for Greg's sake, had likely something to do with it.

Catherine looked at her sternly. She knew that Sara's stress level was high, just like everybody else's of course, but there was not really a point in entering the conflict she was trying to push her into.

"I don't know exactly what happened, and I don't know how much you should know before you've given your statement," she started explaining. "What I've heard from the officer who was with Gil is that they were in the room at the far end of the warehouse when the officer heard Greg calling for help in the next room. He went over to him and that was when the shooting started," Catherine offered.

"Why did Greg call for help? Did he see one of the perps before it started?"

Catherine shrugged. "I don't know. We'll have to ask Greg himself."

Sara seemed to be in thoughts for some moments, before she asked quietly, "Why does he think it's his fault?"

Catherine realized that Sara was worrying for Greg, additionally to all the other things that were pushing everybody on their shift to their edge now. She apparently did not only grieve for Grissom, but was at the same time obviously not able to feel relief that Greg had gotten off lightly, that he was - at least physically - on the way to recovery. Sara was afraid that Greg blamed himself.

Greg had not been like himself when Catherine had spent him a short visit earlier, but she had thought it were only the normal after-effects of what had happened, even though Sara had hinted that he was thinking it is fault. Catherine had not taken that seriously. But remembering Greg's behavior earlier, she thought now that Sara might be right, and that her concern was justified. The question was only why Greg could think that he was to blame. That was what Sara wanted to find out of course, but Catherine did not know it either.

"Because he called for help which left Gil alone," she could only guess. "That's the only idea I have." She shook her head. "But as he couldn't know that the perp would start shooting in the other room, this doesn't make it his fault." Catherine made a long break, looking at Sara who seemed to be on the verge of tears. "The coroner told me that Gil was instantly dead when he was shot," she explained Sara sadly. "The officer probably couldn't have done anything, even if Greg hadn't called him away."

**TBC**


	6. Insistently

_Is anyone still reading this?  
_

_Oh, Emmithar read it, betaread it even. Thanks for that. :D_

* * *

**Chapter 6: Insistently**

Greg woke up to the sound of the door of the hospital room being shut. He opened his eyes just a crack to see whether somebody had entered or left. To his relief the latter seemed to be the case as he did not detect anybody in the room.

He was not keen on seeing anybody. The last person who had been here when he was awake had been Sara and Greg had pretended to sleep. He did not know if she had bought that. She had called his name several times, but had left then. Under normal circumstances Greg would have expected her to be more insistent.

While he was longing to see her, to take her into his arms, he was at the same time afraid of meeting her.

He could not look her into the eyes.

And he was afraid of what she would say.

He had actually been surprised that she had come back at all after he had told her that it was his fault. She had not left directly.

Had he expected her to? He did not know.

The door was opened again and Greg looked up, seeing a nurse glancing into the room. She smiled at him for a moment, before she turned her head to a person who was obviously standing outside although Greg could not see them.

"He's awake now," she said cheerfully and stepped aside to let the other person enter the room. Greg was a bit disagreeing that she had not even asked him if he wanted to see anybody, but how could she know that he did not?

He especially did not want to see Sara who was walking into the room now, wearing a smile like the nurse had. Only Sara's seemed rather strained and Greg could not blame her.

The nurse left them alone and Sara sat down in the chair next to the bed, breathing a soft "Hey."

"Hey," Greg returned, knowing he could not avoid some conversation now. There was no possible way he could pretend to be sleeping again.

"How are you doing?" Sara wanted to know, and Greg was surprised at the care that still sounded through her voice.

"Not too bad," he replied. It was true. He was still feeling somewhat sore and was having a minor headache, but apart from that he was feeling quite okay, physically that was. He did not know though, how he would feel if he had not been given the pain meds he had received this morning.

"That's good." Sara smiled again, still strained though.

"How are you?"

Sara shrugged. "I'm alright," she answered, without thinking about it even a moment. Greg hoped she really was.

She took his hand in hers and leaned in slowly to kiss him. Greg did not want to, could not understand why she was doing this, but he did not turn away, but let himself fall into her kiss, trying to forget the guilt for a moment.

Sara was hugging him, and he felt as if her embrace had never felt as warm before as it was now.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered.

"You mentioned that," he was almost joking weakly. Sara drew back a bit, but did not let go of him completely but was still holding on his shoulders, frowning slightly.

"I could not take losing you as well," she said quietly, and then it was as if she was regretting what she had just said. Greg had broken eye contact with her the moment she had spoken.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Sara was the first to speak again.

"It's not your fault, Greg. Not at all," she told him insistently. "It's not your fault," she repeated slowly. Greg closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, while Sara finally let her arms drop from his shoulders.

"It is," he opposed. He opened his eyes again, but did not directly look at her. "You can examine it from every possible angle, Sara. It is my fault. I didn't kill Grissom, no, but if I hadn't been so stupid, he could still be alive."

"It's not stupid to call for help, Greg," Sara interjected weakly, after a moment of dead silence.

"If I hadn't foolishly tried to shove that board aside, I wouldn't have needed help," Greg stated crestfallenly.

"Nobody could help him anymore, Greg," Sara tried again quietly. "Grissom, he died instantly. It didn't matter if the officer was there or not."

"Maybe the man would have noticed something before, it could have alerted him," Greg argued. Sara had folded her arms by now and leaned back in her chair, an angry expression crossing her face, the earlier strained smile was long gone.

"Okay," she said now irritated. "If you insist on it… It's your fault!" She jumped up from the chair, turning to go. "I hope you're happy now," she threw at him, before she rushed out of the room.

And Greg was hurting. Hurting out of guilt, because of Sara, and because of her assumption that he could be happy now.

He had just wanted that she knew the truth. That she knew exactly how he was to blame. And somewhere deep down he had probably hoped that she would forgive him, after he had confessed everything.

* * *

Sara was rushing blindly out of the room and nearly collided with a man who was just walking up towards it.

"Hey," he stopped her, holding her on her arms. Sara looked up to him and Warrick smiled at her. "How are you doing?" he wanted to know.

"Not too bad," she replied, realizing then that she was repeating Greg's earlier words.

"How's Greg holding up? I was just about to pay him a visit."

Sara looked at the floor. "Not so good," she said quietly.

"What's wrong with him?" Warrick asked worriedly.

"Physically he's going to be fine…" Sara answered evasively. She rubbed her eyes. "He's so stubborn," she said heatedly. "He's insisting that it's his fault that Grissom's dead."

Warrick did not ask after the why, but hugged her firmly, seeing the tears coming up in Sara's eyes. She was sobbing into him now and Warrick looked around for a place where he could bring her that was a little more private than the hospital floor. Greg's room definitely was not an option.

Warrick took her hand and led her slowly to the waiting room at the other side of the floor. It was not exactly private either but better than the hallway. He made Sara sit down and watched how she was slowly collecting herself, dabbing her face with a handkerchief.

When she was breathing more calmly, Warrick dared to speak again.

"I'm sure Greg's going to get better," he said, convinced of that himself.

"Maybe he's right after all," Sara whispered and Warrick looked at her questioningly. "Maybe it's really his fault."

Warrick did not understand why Sara was taken that into consideration now. As far as he could tell, it was not Greg's fault, no matter how much Greg had maybe tried to convince Sara of the opposite.

He did not really understand Greg there either, but could at least imagine that it was a symptom of the shock he was likely in. And a result of the fact that he was alive, while Grissom had died. Warrick could just hope that the same was the case for Sara, that it was just an attempt to deal with all the emotions that had to amount in her and all the confusion of her own feelings and Greg's self-accusation.

"I don't think it's Greg's fault," he tried to soothe her now, unsure how much success he was even expecting. "You'll both see that soon," he said somehow more to himself.

Sara was nearly ripping on her handkerchief that she was still holding in her hands.

"I can't lose him, too," she stated hopelessly.

Warrick knew that Greg was not in any fatal danger now. Sara meant another kind of loss.

**TBC**


	7. Hopelessly

_Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!_

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Hopelessly**

Sara had not come back that day and neither had she the next. Most of Greg's other friends from the lab had dropped by at the hospital though, but they had seldom experienced Greg as subdued as he was during these visits.

It was in the evening of the next day that Catherine came, but not for the first time. It was very obvious that she intended to stay longer, even bringing some food that she apparently considered as healthy choices for Greg.

"For a change from the hospital food," she explained to him, smiling. Greg returned her smile weakly.

"I'm going to be released tomorrow morning," he told her quietly. "I won't need all this stuff," he added. Catherine lifted her eyebrows.

"I didn't want to sound ungrateful," Greg apologized quickly. "I can take it with-"

"Who's going to get you?" Catherine interrupted him with her question.

Greg shrugged. "I could take a taxi…" It was not the answer Catherine was waiting for.

"Where will you go?" she added softly, but intentionally raising the question that was mostly on her mind.

"Home, I guess."

Catherine nodded quietly. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked then, and Greg knew she was not speaking about his health.

"I guess."

"Greg… I heard about you and Sara…"

"You did?" He was rubbing his forehead, touched uncomfortably by her statement. It was an issue between him and Sara, something they had to clear between themselves, even though it was quite hopeless in Greg's mind.

"Warrick told me."

Greg nodded slowly. He picked up one of the bananas Catherine had brought with her, starting to peel it.

"I hope she didn't leave our place," he admitted then quietly, fiddling around quite vainly to get rid of the fibers on the fruit, focusing on this task just to avoid Catherine's gaze.

"I don't think she went anywhere," she told him. She had not heard anything about Sara having left Greg's place. Actually Sara had been burying herself so much in her work in the last two days that Catherine doubted that Sara had had time to find another place to stay. And neither Nick nor Warrick had mentioned anything about Sara staying at their places.

"I don't know what to do," Greg stated hopelessly. "I can't blame her if she leaves, but I don't want her to."

Catherine shook her head. She actually would blame Sara if she just left Greg alone in a situation like this. Greg and Sara had been living together for more than a year. Sara just could not abandon him right when he needed her. And it was clear that Greg needed her. It was Sara who would have to convince him that Grissom's death was not his fault. Catherine doubted that Greg would accept any attempt of convincement from any other person.

"Talk with her. Tell her about what you think and what you feel," Catherine advised him. She sensed that only this way Sara would see why Greg was claiming so stubbornly that it was his fault. That only this way Sara would find out how she could take away his feeling of guilt; that only this way Greg would see that Sara was not blaming him, and that she did not intend to leave.

The last two points Catherine could only hope though. Warrick had told her that Sara was actually considering accepting Greg's confession. Of course, if Sara forgave Greg, and convinced Greg that she was doing that, they would still be able to move on, to live on together. But Catherine feared that Greg would never be able to let go of the guilt then, something that might even affect his ability to work as a CSI, if he was afraid of making a mistake on a scene.

And Catherine did not want that. She was mourning for her friend. And it had been Grissom, next to Sara, who had helped Greg on the way to the position he was now. Catherine did not want that Greg gave up on all of that.

"We talked already. And see where it led us to," Greg said now.

Catherine could not believe her ears. She had never seen Greg that hopeless and discouraged.

"Talk with her. If you fight again, then fight. Anything's better than this," Catherine waved undirected in the air, losing somewhat her patience. "And now eat your banana," she added with a slightly threatening undertone.

* * *

The next morning Greg was just signing his release forms, when he saw a brunette woman approaching him, but stopping then some distance away from him. His hand trembled slightly when he put his name on the paper in front of him. He was not quite prepared for that, having assumed that either somebody else from the lab would come to get him home or that he would have to take a taxi. At least he had expected that he had still some time to prepare until he would have to face Sara, if she was still at their home at all.

Now she was here, however, but maybe just to pick him up and bring him to the place, only to tell him that she had moved out or was just about doing it, or maybe she would even tell him to leave, but Greg could not imagine her being so harsh, since he was just being released from the hospital after all.

Greg took a deep breath, trying to calm his rushing thoughts. He smiled at the nurse who was taking the last form he had had to sign, and turned around to Sara then.

"Hey," he greeted her, not really knowing what to say at all. The last thing she had said to him had been angry words, and they had been justified in a way. Much more anger from her would be justified actually; he was at least partly responsible for the death of Sara's boss, her maybe longest friend, if that was the right word to use for their relationship, and the man she had possibly loved.

Nothing Greg could say seemed appropriate. So it was more than a relief when Sara came over to him and took his hand in hers. She was pulling him softly into the direction of the exit, without saying anything and Greg figured it was best to stay silent as well, until she said something. Or was she expecting something from him?

He glanced at her and saw that she was frowning slightly and it made him wonder if she was trying to find something to come up with as well. The silence was getting unbearable for Greg, so he was asking a helpless question.

"Where have you parked your car?"

"Right over there," Sara pointed a little distance ahead. Greg felt strange that this had been the first exchange between them since two days ago. Sara did not let go of his hand until they reached her car. The drive was silent like most of the walk to the car had been. Greg switched through several radio stations, just to fill the silence, but one was more obnoxious than the other, at least to Greg's ears right now.

Sara unlocked the door to their apartment, but let Greg enter at first. The apartment was tidy, but one thing Greg definitely noticed immediately.

"You're still here," it was half a statement, half a question and he turned to her, looking at her, the insecurity still shining on his face.

"Of course I am," she responded. "Unless you want me to leave," she added quietly. Greg stared at her, wondering why she was actually putting this choice in his hands. As if this question needed to be risen at all. Greg hoped that Sara knew that deep inside. And if she did not, he still would have to show her.

**TBC**


	8. Insecurely

**_A/N: A big thanks to Emmithar for yet another chapter betaed by her. _**

_**Here we go... tell me what you think. A Happy New Year to everyone!**_

* * *

**Chapter 8: Insecurely**

Sara had not even gone home. She had left the hospital directly for the lab, her angry exchange with Greg still on her mind.

She did not really know if she was feeling angrier, sadder or more scared about everything. What she knew was that she could not deal with everything right now. She had tried, she had tried it for Greg's sake, but he had been little help, and in fact, had only aggravated the situation.

If he was stubbornly claiming that it was his fault, then he could have it that Sara accepted exactly that. But he could not expect her to be there for him then and listen to his self-accusations, could he?

Sara sneaked into the lab almost unnoticed, retreating into a quiet room, burying herself in an amount of unlogged evidence. The lack of two CSIs at once had not exactly helped their shift that had been swamped with work anyway. And when, if, Greg returned to work was really standing in the stars right now.

Sara sighed, focusing on the paper in front of her again. If it had been possible, she would have liked to lock the door behind her, making sure to work without any disturbance, or any intrusion of a person who only meant well. But as things were, she could not hide completely and had to expect that somebody, most likely Nick or Warrick, would come soon. Or Catherine, trying to send her home again, Sara thought in a new wave of anger.

It was a few hours later that she realized that she had apparently been wrong, for nobody had entered the room she had been working in the whole time. Where was everybody?

Sara made her way to the break room, expecting to find some of her co-workers there, but the room was empty. She set up some coffee, if only to have not gone to the break room in vain. She did not really need the caffeine, she was still way too edgy to feel even close to tired.

While the coffee was brewing, she figured that all three CSIs that were left on her shift were probably out on scenes. It was actually logical. Nobody had apparently wanted or dared to call her for field work, but as she had seen at the amount of work herself, crime had not stopped only because they were two CSIs down.

They would need a replacement either from another shift or from another lab soon, especially if Greg did not return to work. Sara did not want to think about that possibility. She could not imagine working in the lab with both Grissom and Greg gone.

Sara had not seen much of her co-workers in the following hours either. Then she had avoided them, and they knew obviously well enough to leave her alone. She had stayed at the lab for most of the day, only dropping by for a couple of hours at home to catch some sleep and fresh clothes. During their next shift Nick had finally approached her.

"Greg isn't doing so well," he said and Sara guessed that he had visited Greg at the hospital. She noticed that Nick had not even asked after her well-being, probably not expecting an enlightening answer anyway.

"Mentally," Nick added now, when Sara did not react on his statement.

"I know." Sara sighed, and she knew as well that Nick was telling her that because he thought that she could do something about it, had to do something about it.

"You know that he's going to be released tomorrow morning, don't you?" Nick looked at her questioningly.

"Of course I do." Actually Sara had not known that. She could not believe that she had cared so little to not inquire after that. "I'm going to get him home." At least she knew it now and could prepare herself for it. And could show Greg that she still cared for him.

"Good," Nick nodded. "If you two need anything…"

"We'll be fine." Sara smiled weakly for the first time.

She had been there early to make sure Greg did not have to wait. She watched him signing some forms before she approached him. He looked better than the last time she had seen him.

He greeted her, glancing at her insecurely. She took his hand and pulled him gently to the exit. There was no need to stay at the hospital longer than necessary. It was not the right place to talk, as their last angry encounter had only shown even more so.

Greg did not say anything and it worried her at least a bit. Was he angry at her? Or was he just unsure what to say, afraid she would blow up at him again? Knowing Greg, the second possibility was far more likely.

"Where have you parked your car?" he asked finally and Sara was glad that the silence was broken, even if only with a trivial question.

"Right over there," she said. Their next exchange did not come before they were at home. Right after he had entered their apartment, Greg had turned to her.

"You're still here." It had almost been a question.

"Of course I am. Unless you want me to leave." She did not really now why she had added that. She did not really think it possible that Greg did not want her there. There had been no indication that he was feeling this way.

Sara dropped down onto the edge of the couch, looking at the floor, pondering sadly how she could save any of their relationship.

She did not feel like there was anything she could do. There was no point in saying that she was sorry; she was not even sure if she was. She was of course sorry for the outlook of them breaking apart, sorry for how everything was going, but was she sorry for anything she had done?

There was not a point in telling Greg that it was not his fault either. She had done so again and again, and he had not listened, had not believed it. And she did not know what else she could do, not even knowing if she wanted to do more about it. Maybe she could just accept that he blamed himself, maybe he was to blame after all. That did not mean that she wanted to lose him though.

She looked up, seeing that he had sat down in the armchair opposite of her.

"That wasn't a broad hint telling me to pack my stuff, was it?" he questioned now, apparently trying to at least pretend to make it sound less serious than it actually was.

Sara shook her head quietly. "I don't know in which of my words you interpreted that," she almost laughed.

Greg shrugged. "Just making sure."

Sara smiled briefly. "What about getting some lunch?" she suggested.

"Shouldn't you get some sleep? You were up all night, I guess," Greg said, but stood up.

"It's alright."

Greg had never answered her question, but Sara guessed that she could safely assume that he wanted her to stay. Maybe things were not going that bad after all.

There were still many unresolved issues between them, Greg's fault or not-fault at the happenings at the scene being only the most tormenting one that would even be a re-opened wound when the lab would report on the incident, but Sara was glad that Greg was there, that they could look back on a stable relationship that had been holding for more than a year now, and that hopefully would hold out these times as well. Sara did not really want to think about any alternative.

**TBC**


	9. Slowly

**_A/N: Yeah, you wouldn't have expected this anymore, huh? Well, it's been a while, but I thought that it would be a nice idea to finish this story before its first birthday lol. _**

_**Instead of going into more talking, here we go with the last chapter!**_

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing.**_

* * *

**Chapter 9: Slowly**

Greg turned the key around in the lock and opened the door, stepping back to let Sara enter first. She walked slowly into their apartment and Greg followed her, after he had closed the door behind himself quietly. Sara had gone into the living room, facing the window there, but Greg doubted she was actually looking outside.

The sun was shining brightly into the room, and once Sara turned around, Greg was hardly able to see her face for he was blinded by the light. It had been a friendly day, weather-wise, the actual occasion being much sadder.

During Grissom's funeral Greg had suspected that Sara tried to force herself to remain calm, to not cry, and he had been worried about it, for he doubted it to be a good idea for her to shut in her grief. But short before the end of the ceremony Sara had not been able to hold herself together anymore and had finally cried openly.

Most of the ceremony had gone by in a fog for Greg, he caring mostly for Sara, at the same time trying to say goodbye to Grissom himself.

Now he was approaching her, taking her into his arms. Sara seemed surprisingly relaxed in his embrace, and Greg smiled sadly, nestling his head onto her shoulder. Sara drew back after some moments.

"What about me getting us some food? Are you up for Chinese?" she asked, and again she appeared rather calm and relaxed. Greg hoped it was not just show.

He nodded. "Sure."

She smiled faintly, stepping to the phone and dialing a familiar number. A few minutes later the order was taken, and Sara turned back to Greg.

"You're coming back to work tomorrow?" she asked then. As far as she had heard from Catherine, Greg had announced that, more or less that was.

"IAB's finishing their report and everything…" Greg replied slowly.

"So you'll come back tomorrow?" she insisted. Greg avoided her gaze. "You don't think they'll blame you in any way?" She stepped towards him. "Greg, we've been through this…" Sara reached out, grabbing his arm. "Come back to work…" She caught his gaze now. "I miss working with you." She pulled him towards her, kissing him lightly. Greg smiled faintly.

* * *

She could hear the sounds coming from the different labs, but the hallway was deserted safe for her. The door of the office in front of Sara was open, the room itself empty. Catherine was not here. Sara knew exactly where she was, but did not really want to think about it right now.

She walked carefully into the room, leaving the door only a crack open. Nobody had cleared the room yet, put things away. Catherine had not changed anything either. Sara could see that she had cleared some space on the desk in order to be able to do the paperwork she had to do, but Grissom's stuff was still there. So were the rest of his things in the room, his books and his strange collection. Sara looked around in the room sadly.

She jerked around when she suddenly noticed that another person had entered the room, and her eyes fell on Catherine who was standing in the door.

"I can go…" the blonde woman started. Sara shook her head slightly.

"It's okay." After all, this was Catherine's office now. It was her who could kick Sara out actually. Noticing the file in Catherine's hand now, she asked, "Is this…?"

Catherine nodded. "Yeah, the report from IAB. I still have to sign it." She sighed, walking around the desk and laying the file on it, grabbing a pen. Sara who was standing a few feet away, looked into the direction of the paper, but was not able to read anything which would probably have been rather futile anyway, since the file was apparently dozens of pages thick.

Catherine put her name on one of the papers, closing the folder then and turning around to Sara. She caught the sight of the brunette, obviously figuring what Sara had been looking at.

"If you want to read it, go ahead, but it's not really advisable. I mean, I don't know if you really want to read the excerpts from the coroner's report and everything…" Catherine shrugged, watching Sara closely.

"No," Sara shook her head. "I just wanted to know…" She paused. "… Greg?"

Catherine fixed her with her gaze. "Sara, I thought we'd cleared that. It wasn't Greg's fault. And this report," she picked up the folder again, "doesn't say so either."

Sara breathed out slowly, a weight falling from her. Catherine was still watching her.

"You're not blaming him, are you?" she asked, some sharpness in her voice.

"No, of course I'm not," Sara replied quickly. Catherine nodded, smiling weakly.

"I think Warrick could need a hand with his case," she told Sara now. "He's in the AV lab." Sara nodded, leaving Grissom's former office slowly. "If you see Greg anywhere, take him to help you," Catherine called after her. Sara turned briefly back to her boss, giving her a weak smile and a nod.

Sara made her way to the AV lab, but glanced into every room she was coming by to see if Greg was in there. She finally found him in the smallest layout room. His back was to the door; he was leaning over the table, going over blood-stained clothes, cutting off samples. He had apparently not heard her coming. Sara hesitated for a moment before she knocked lightly at the open door.

"Hey," she added quietly after a second. Greg turned around to her, motioning to the clothes that were spread on the table.

"I'm helping out Warrick on his case," he explained.

Sara nodded, smiling at him faintly. "I was just searching for you to ask you to do that."

Greg nodded as well, turning back to his work, and Sara stepped towards the table, stopping next to Greg. She looked at the fabric in front of them.

"You've heard about the report?" she asked quietly. Greg gave a short nod, continuing to cut the cloth he was holding.

"Nick told me," he answered. "And Catherine did as well."

Sara nodded, watching Greg working for a minute. "I'm going to help Warrick, too."

"Yeah." Greg did not look at her, like she would have wanted. She hesitated to leave.

"Are you alright?" She looked at him from the side.

"How am I supposed to be?" he returned, not pausing in his work. Sara put a hand on his arm which finally made him to.

"Do you think I'm feeling great?" she asked him openly. Greg turned around to her at last.

"It wasn't your fault," he stated, sorrow in his voice. Sara looked at him sadly.

"It wasn't yours either," she reminded him. "Do I have to hit you over the head with that damn report?" Her voice had become agitated and Greg could see a shimmer of tears in her eyes.

"No," Greg answered slowly, laying an arm around her back and rubbing it lightly.

"Good for you. It looked heavy," Sara said jokingly, but crying by now. Greg wanted to stop the tears but knew that he would not be able to, that his only option was to be there and wait, trying to keep calm himself, knowing that it would not help if he fell to pieces again as well.

"Greg…" Sara sobbed, looking at him, her eyes reflecting anger and sadness. Greg could not really be sure that she was not blaming him deep inside and had just told him the opposite because she thought she had to do it. He would not be able to do anything, if she told him now that she felt that way, told him to go.

He took her into his arms anxiously, holding onto what were maybe the last few seconds he would be holding her. She was crying more quietly now, repeating his name after a minute.

"Greg…" she said quietly, "… just hold me."

**The End**


End file.
